


Fears and Dreams

by corys_the_bosmer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Little bit of angst, Romance, Season 8, Smut, TBTWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 09:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corys_the_bosmer/pseuds/corys_the_bosmer
Summary: I know everyone has written a version of Jaime and Brienne’s reunion at Winterfell, but here’s mine. (Just in time for season 8!)





	1. Chapter 1

The journey down to Kings Landing had taken weeks, and the journey back had taken even longer. But it wasn’t the distance that made the days seem so long to Brienne. On the way south there had at least been some small thing to look forward to. Even knowing what they were facing in the north, the thought that she would get to see Jaime again had given her a spark of hope. 

But now that they were back at Winterfell, she cursed herself as a stupid girl who should have known better. Jaime had been there in the Dragon Pit, sitting next to his sister. He’d barely spoken to her, barely even looked at her. He seemed like a different man from when she’d last seen him outside Riverrun. Could he really have changed so much since then?

There had been moments she was sure something significant had passed between them that day. Had she imagined it after all?

_Of course you did,_ she told herself harshly. How could she have been so stupid to think that Jaime Lannister would ever leave his beautiful sister, that he could ever feel anything for someone like her? 

But then she thought of the sword he’d given her, Oathkeeper. Jaime had trusted her with it, and with his promise to Lady Catelyn. He had saved her, more than once, when he didn’t have to. Had it all truly meant nothing?

She remembered the look on his face as he’d walked away from her, cold and angry. So different from the way he’d looked at her that day in his tent. 

Maybe something had happened to him since then. A small, stubborn part of her hoped that she’d get the chance to ask him one day. Cersei had promised to send the Lannister army north to join the fight, and if the army was coming then surely Jaime would be leading it. 

Days had passed and there had been no word. The northerners were starting to mutter: the Lannisters couldn’t be trusted, the Lannisters were treacherous, the Kingslayer would only come to kill the rightful heirs to the Iron Throne. 

It hurt Brienne to hear them speak about Jaime that way. She knew he’d always done his best to keep his word, and she didn’t want to believe that this would be any different. Not when he knew what was at stake. If the Lannister army didn’t come it would be Cersei’s doing, not Jaime’s. She was sure of that. 

In the meantime there was plenty of work to do, and Brienne found it easy to keep busy during the day, leaving little time to think of Jaime. But the evenings were a different matter. Once all her duties were done and she was alone, she often found herself thinking about him, wondering where he might be. So much could go wrong on the road between Kings Landing and Winterfell, and the weather was only getting worse. Brienne didn’t want to admit, even to herself, how worried she was about him, and how much she wanted to see him again, even if it was just to know that he was alive and well. 

Finally a raven came from Moat Cailin. The Lannister army had passed through on their way north. The slight sense of relief that passed through Winterfell didn’t last long, however. Word also came from Castle Black. The Wall had been destroyed at Eastwatch by the sea, and the army of the dead was moving south. The atmosphere inside the castle walls became even more tense than it had been before, and Brienne almost wished that Jaime wasn’t heading north, thinking he’d be safer if he’d stayed in Kings Landing. 

One evening the look-outs sent word that the Lannister army had been spotted. Brienne hurriedly made her way to the battlements to see for herself. In the dim light she could see the crimson banners against the snow, but they were still too far away for her to be able to make out Jaime’s face amongst the others. 

Preparations were quickly made for the evening, and Brienne waited with everyone else to welcome their new guests. 

* * *

The walls of Winterfell seemed to loom ominously into the darkening sky as Jaime waited for the gate to open. He recalled the first time he’d come there, riding into the courtyard in his shining Kingsguard armour, escorting King Robert Baratheon and the royal family as honoured guests of the Starks. He had no idea what kind of welcome he’d receive this time. 

The gate swung open slowly, and Jaime led his men into the courtyard. Their arrival had attracted quite a crowd. He dismounted, grateful for the chance to get some of the feeling back into his frozen limbs. As he looked around, it seemed everyone was staring at him with cold, unfriendly eyes. Behind him, he heard Bronn mutter something about it not being a very warm welcome. 

Jaime’s eyes were drawn upwards. A young girl with dark hair was standing on the covered walkway that overlooked the courtyard, her expression hard to read. But standing next to her was the one person Jaime had been most anxious about seeing again. 

Brienne’s blue eyes met his. He thought she looked troubled, and he wondered if she was angry about how he’d behaved the last time they’d seen each other. But Jaime was sure she gave him the slightest bit of a smile, and he felt the knot in his chest loosen a little. 

At that moment he was distracted by movement across the courtyard. Someone was coming out to greet them. Jaime glanced up at Brienne again, hoping he’d get a chance to talk to her soon. Then he took a deep breath, and waited to see what would happen. 

To his relief, he saw Tyrion making his way forward, a smile on his face. 

“You made it, brother. We were starting to worry.”

Jaime returned the smile. 

“I can’t exactly say I’m happy to be here, but it will be good to get out of the cold.”

“I’m sure it will. We’ll find room for all of you somewhere.” Tyrion paused a moment, looking around at the men behind Jaime. 

“You don’t seem to have quite the numbers we were hoping for,” he said with a frown. “Did you suffer some losses on the way up?”

“Not exactly,” Jaime replied with a sigh. “Things got... complicated after you left. It might take some time to explain.” 

Tyrion nodded, understanding. 

“Well, come inside. They’re all waiting for you in the great hall. A great deal has happened since we last spoke. It will definitely take some time to explain.”

Tyrion turned to go back inside, and Jaime started to follow him. He looked up to see Brienne again, but she had already gone. 

“Have you heard anything while you’ve been on the road?” Tyrion asked him. 

“No, nothing.” Jaime replied. 

“I’m not surprised. Even if you had, it would likely end up being so different from the truth that you wouldn’t believe it anyway. Not that the truth is any more believable. The one piece of good news is that young Bran Stark is alive and well. More or less, anyway.”

Jaime stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Bran Stark? I thought he’d been killed by Theon Greyjoy. Him and his younger brother.”

“Apparently not. He’s been north for the Wall.”

“North of the Wall?” Jaime repeated, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. 

“That’s another long story.” Tyrion continued walking. “I’m still not sure I believe it myself.”

Jaime followed him, guilt and shame flooding his body. His stomach felt as if he’d swallowed hot lead and his legs felt too heavy to move. Part of him wanted to turn and run, but he knew that he wouldn’t. He was still a knight after all. A disgraced one perhaps, but he was determined to meet his fate head-on. 

The hall was packed with the most curious mix of people that Jaime had ever seen. Northerners, wildlings, Knights of the Vale, Dothrakhi and Unsullied. All eyes were on him as he followed his brother down the centre of the hall, with Bronn just behind him. Brienne’s pale blonde hair was easy to spot, and Jaime glanced quickly in her direction. Somehow, it made him feel better just knowing she was there. 

At the end of the hall Jon Snow sat in the centre of another table, his face as serious as it had been in the Dragon Pit. Beside him was Daenerys Targaryen, composed and regal. On his other side sat Sansa Stark, and next to her a young man in a kind of wheeled chair, his face expressionless. Jaime almost didn’t recognise Bran from the boy he’d last seen years before. Beside them was Arya Stark, the girl he’d seen earlier. She was standing with her hands behind her back, watching everything intently. 

Brienne waited anxiously. She watched Jaime as he walked in. He looked different from the last time she’d seen him. He was no longer wearing his Lannister armour, instead a mixture of worn leather, a dark woollen cloak over his shoulders. His hair had got longer and his beard had grown since he’d been on the road. But he still carried himself with the same easy dignity he always had, and she couldn’t help feeling proud of him. 

“Your grace, my ladies, my lords,” Tyrion began, “might I introduce my brother, ser Jaime.”

Under different circumstances, Jaime might have laughed at his brother’s formality, but instead he bowed his head briefly to each of them. 

It was Sansa who spoke first. 

“Welcome to Winterfell, ser Jaime. I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“Thank you, my lady. It went as well as could be expected.”

“Southern armies don’t tend to do well this far north,” Jon remarked. 

Jaime nodded in agreement. 

“We came prepared as best we could. However I’m sure my men would appreciate any additional furs you might have to offer.”

“I’ll see what can be found for them.” Sansa told him. 

“Thank you, my lady.” Jaime said again. 

“As I understood it,” Jon began, “the Lannister army is several times bigger than the force you’ve brought with you. Where are the rest of them?”

Jaime sighed. He’d known this question would come and he’d had a lot of time to think about his answer. He no longer saw any reason to protect his sister. He only hoped the Starks would believe him. 

“Still in Kings Landing,” he admitted. 

His words caused a stir through the people gathered in the hall. 

“Why is that?” Jon asked. 

Jaime looked the younger man directly in the eye. 

“Cersei lied to you. She never had any intention of sending our army to join the war. She just told you that so that you’d leave. She thinks she can let you and the army of the dead fight each other, and then she’ll only have to deal with whoever wins.”

“Even with the whole army, they’d never be able to stand alone against the White Walkers. Or against our combined forces. She must know that.” Tyrion said. 

“That’s not all. Euron Greyjoy hasn’t gone back to the Iron Islands. He’s crossing the Narrow Sea to bring the Golden Company over from Essos. Cersei intends to use them to retake the lands she’s already lost.”

“That sounds like our sister,” said Tyrion with a weary sigh. “And I thought I’d actually got through to her.”

“There’s no getting through to Cersei.” Jaime reminded him. 

“And you expect us to believe that your sister did all of this without your knowledge?” Varys said. 

Jaime could feel himself getting irritated. He’d expected questions from the Starks, or from the Targaryen girl, but it seemed the eunuch was only trying to stir up trouble. He ignored Varys and addressed the Starks again. 

“I didn’t know anything about it until after you left. She and Euron plotted the whole thing behind my back. She lied to me too.” Jaime found he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. All the weeks that had passed since his departure from Kings Landing hadn’t entirely taken the pain out of Cersei’s betrayal. 

“So Cersei lied to us, but you decided to come north anyway. Why?” Jon’s question was blunt, and for a moment Jaime was reminded of another northern lord who had once looked at him with the same judgement. 

“I gave you my word that I would,” he replied simply. He knew it would be nearly impossible to get the northerners to believe the word of the Kingslayer, but having come all this way he knew he had to try. 

There was a moment of quiet, and Jaime saw Jon glance down the table to where Arya was standing. She gave him a brief nod, and Jon seemed satisfied with the answer to his unspoken question. 

Jaime let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. Things seemed to be going better than he had dared to hope. He cast another quick look at Bran, guilt flooding through him again. The boy hadn’t said a word since Jaime had entered the hall. Maybe he didn’t remember what had happened. If he did, Jaime thought he would surely have been locked up by now, at the very least. 

“I’m sure our dear sister wasn’t very happy when you told her you were leaving anyway.” Tyrion said. 

“No, she was not.” Jaime admitted. “She called it treason, and threatened to have Gregor Clegane kill me.” He felt his anger rise again. 

“Threatening to execute both her brothers on the same day? That’s impressive, even for her.”

Jaime exchanged a brief, bitter smile with his brother. 

“Of course, I’m used to it, but I never thought she’d do that to you.”

“Neither did I,” Jaime replied, “but maybe I should have known better, even after she told me that...”

He stopped abruptly. That piece of news wasn’t something he wanted to share with the whole of the north, even assuming it was true. 

“Told you what?” Jon asked sharply, and Jaime knew he wasn’t going to be able to avoid answering. 

“She told me she’s pregnant,” he said, finding it hard to force the words out. He didn’t dare look at Brienne. 

“She isn’t.” Bran said suddenly. “She lied about that too.”

Jaime could only stare at him. 

“Bran has visions.” Jon explained, although that made no more sense to Jaime. 

“I can see everything.” Bran said. “I remember everything.”

Jaime waited tensely for him to continue, but the moments passed and Bran didn’t say anything else. 

“Well then,” said Tyrion, breaking the silence, “it might not be the numbers we’d hoped for, but it’s still more than we had yesterday.”

Jon nodded in agreement. 

“Where did these men come from, if not Kings Landing?” Tyrion asked. 

“The Riverlands,” Jaime replied, finding his voice again. “They were mostly stationed at Riverrun after we re-took it.” 

He hesitated a moment. The events of that day were another thing he didn’t really want to discuss with the Starks, although it would probably be unavoidable at some point.

“This is as many as I could persuade to come with me.”

“I can’t imagine that was easy.” Tyrion remarked. 

“It wasn’t,” Jaime agreed, “but a little gold always helps.”

He heard Bronn let out an amused snort behind him. 

“Ah yes,” said Varys, “the Lannister solution to all problems: gold.”

“Don’t mock it,” Tyrion told him. “People will do a great deal for gold.” 

Varys was about to answer when Bran’s voice cut across him. 

“Or for love. Isn’t that right, ser Jaime?”

Bran was staring at him, his face as emotionless as his voice.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jaime began, even as he felt his stomach lurch. 

“That’s what you said, that day in the tower.”

The silence in the hall was absolute. 

“Bran, what are you talking about?” Sansa asked her brother, her confusion obvious. 

“I didn’t fall. He pushed me. Because I saw him with his sister.”

There was instant uproar. All around the hall people were on their feet, all of them shouting. Brienne saw the shock on Sansa’s face, the cold, hard anger on Arya’s. Tyrion looked utterly bewildered. In the midst of it all Jaime stood still, listening to the angry voices all around him, his guilt obvious on his face. 

Without thinking, Brienne found herself on her feet. 

“Lady Sansa, please!” She tried to make herself heard over the din. 

At the sound of her voice, Jaime looked over at her. He caught her eye briefly and shook his head. 

Jon was on his feet, banging on the table and shouting for quiet. 

Eventually everyone sat down again, but Brienne could still hear them muttering angrily. 

“Ser Jaime Lannister,” Jon began, “do you deny that you did this?”

“No,” said Jaime quietly.

“Why?” Sansa asked him. 

“To protect Cersei. To protect the children.”

At that, the muttering got louder again. 

“It doesn’t matter, Jon.” Bran said. 

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? He tried to kill you!”

“It was always meant to happen that way. It had to. Otherwise I wouldn’t be the Three Eyed Raven.”

Jon didn’t seem to know what to say. 

“He should be punished!” Lord Royce burst out angrily. 

“He already has been,” Bran continued. “He’s as much a cripple as I am now.”

Without thinking, Jaime glanced down at his golden hand. Bran was still looking at him, but there was no anger on his face. 

“But Bran...” Sansa began again. Bran turned to look at his sister. 

“I told you, it doesn’t matter. It had to happen. And he’s here to fight with us. He’s not our enemy anymore.”

With that, Bran fell silent again. 

The Starks looked at each other, as if none of them were quite sure what to do next. Jaime could only wait, for what he was quite sure would be the order for his execution. 

Time seemed to drag by until Jon got to his feet again. 

“We all know why we’re here. Everyone in this castle has agreed to put their differences aside while we fight our common enemy. We can’t fight amongst ourselves as well.”

He looked directly at Jaime. 

“Jaime Lannister, do you swear to fight with us in the war to come?”

For a moment Jaime couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. 

“I do,” he managed to reply, his dry throat making it hard for him to speak. 

“Very well. We’ll find beds for you and your men.”

Jon nodded, dismissing him. 

Before he turned to leave, Jaime looked at Bran. 

“I know there is nothing I can do, nothing I can say, that will make up for what I did to you, but I am sorry.”

“I know.” Bran replied. He showed no more emotion than he had done at any other point. 

Jaime bowed briefly to Daenerys and each of the Starks, finding it almost impossible to meet their eyes. He turned and walked out of the hall, hearing voices rise as he left. He was used to people talking about him behind his back, and over the years he’d learnt not to care. But for the first time he felt truly ashamed. He wanted to blame Cersei. His anger and hurt over her lies surged again as he thought of all the things he’d done for her. But in truth, Jaime knew he had no-one to blame but himself. 

_Maybe now I can finally be free of her,_ he thought. But free to do what? Fight and die in a war against an army of dead men? 

Another thought crept into his mind as he remembered Brienne getting to her feet, trying to defend him. 

Jaime wanted desperately to talk to her, although he had no idea what he would say. _And that’s if she even wants to talk to me,_ he thought. _I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t._

In the end, Jaime stayed outside far longer than he needed to, despite the cold. He told himself he was making sure that his men had everything they needed. But he would rather have been out in the cold than inside the castle, facing the hate-filled looks of the northerners. 

It was getting late by the time he went back inside, and it had been dark for some time. Plenty of torches had been lit, but Jaime still didn’t see Brienne until he almost walked into her. 

“Ser Jaime,” she began, looking startled. 

“My lady,” he replied. Everything he wanted to say, every explanation he could offer, no longer seemed good enough. Brienne deserved better than hurried words and poor excuses. _She deserves better than me,_ he thought sadly. 

“Lord Tyrion was looking for you,” Brienne told him. 

“He was? He did say we had a lot to talk about.”

“I’m sure you do.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“I’m glad you’re here, ser Jaime.” Brienne said. “Some people were starting to worry that you wouldn’t get here.”

“You mean they didn’t think I’d come at all?” Jaime replied with a tight smile. “I don’t blame them.”

“I knew you would,” Brienne said. “I knew you’d keep your word.”

Jaime felt a rush of warmth go through him as he looked into her eyes, and he felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. 

“Did she really threaten to kill you?”

Jaime nodded, jaw clenched. 

“For a moment I really thought she would. I’ve always known what she could be like, how she treated her enemies. I suppose I never believed that would include me.”

He leant against the wall with a weary sigh, and Brienne saw how tired he was. Recent events had taken their toll on him, body and spirit. He looked lost, and a long way from home. She wanted to reach out and comfort him. 

“Jaime?” A voice echoed along the corridor. “Is that you there?”

They both looked around to see Tyrion approaching them. Jaime pushed himself off the wall and greeted his brother with a smile. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Tyrion continued. 

“Yes, so lady Brienne was just telling me.”

“I will bid you both good night, then,” Brienne said. “Lord Tyrion. Ser Jaime.” She nodded to both of them before turning and walking back the way she’d come. Jaime stared after her. 

“Good night Brienne.”

Tyrion was talking about getting some dinner, and complaining about the lack of decent wine in Winterfell as he followed Brienne down the corridor, but Jaime hardly heard him.

He and Tyrion talked for hours, and by the time Jaime retired for the night his head was swimming with everything he’d heard. He felt weary to his bones, and was grateful for some peace. 

They’d found him a suitable room. It wasn’t much, but there was a small fire burning in the hearth, enough to keep away the worst of the cold. At least he was locked in a cell, awaiting his execution. 

Jaime made sure the door was locked before getting into bed. The Starks might have agreed that they all needed to work together, but there were any number of other people in the castle who would happily kill him on his sleep. 

But not Brienne, Jaime thought. She said she was glad to see him. Probably the person apart from Tyrion who was. Thinking of her concern for him, Jaime smiled to himself in the darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Jaime was checking on some of his men when Jon approached him. 

“Lannister,” he began. “If you’re going to fight with us, I need to see what you can do. Come to the training yard when you’re done here.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before walking away. 

Jaime found his way to the training yard, rolling his shoulders to loosen them in his borrowed steel. There were a lot of people around, and Jaime got the feeling that they were only pretending to work, but they’d all stop pretending as soon as the fight started. 

Jon met him in the middle of the yard. 

“Am I to be fighting you, my lord?” Jaime asked, trying to keep his voice polite and unconcerned. 

“No,” said Jon. “Him.”

He nodded towards another man, one sworn to House Mormont judging from the sigil on his coat. Jaime had to resist the urge to ask Jon if he was afraid to face him himself, deciding it would not be wise to antagonise the Starks any further. 

Instead he just nodded in response and walked out to meet the other man. He was almost the same height as Jaime, but broader across the shoulders. His bushy brown hair and beard made it hard to tell his age, and Jaime couldn’t help thinking that he looked a bit like a bear. 

As he predicted, the people that had gathered around were now all openly watching. Probably hoping to see the Kingslayer humiliated by a northern fighter. Sansa and Arya had joined Jon, and Jaime saw Bronn watching too. 

Jaime nodded briefly to his opponent before drawing his sword. The man did likewise, and Jaime stepped forward, waiting for him to make the first move. 

He came at Jaime with a predictable overhead blow. Jaime countered it, and the one that followed. The man was strong, but Jaime was faster. He managed to land a blow on his shoulder. Possibly he’d never had to fight someone who used their left hand before, making Jaime a more unpredictable opponent. He thought he might be able to use that to his advantage. 

They circled each other, attacking and blocking again and again until Jaime was able to land another blow, striking the man’s side this time. 

His satisfaction didn’t last long, however. The next swings came at him faster and harder, forcing Jaime to take a couple of steps back. He stepped to the side again to gain some space, and he saw the glint in the man’s eyes. 

_He thinks he can beat me,_ Jaime thought. He parried the next few blows before lunging forwards, forcing the man to defend himself. But then his boot slid on the half-frozen ground, and his opponent landed a crashing blow on his right shoulder. Jaime grunted in surprise as the shock went down his arm. 

He moved sideways again, maintaining the distance this time. He was vaguely aware that the crowd had grown bigger. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Brienne. Her concerned expression distracted him, enough that the man from Bear Island almost landed another blow. Jaime countered it, but it was clumsy, and he knew he’d have to do better if he didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

Jaime’s next few attacks went better, but his opponent didn’t seem to be concerned about losing. A sudden low swing coming from the side caught Jaime on the thigh, almost knocking his leg out from under him. As Jaime regained his feet he saw Bronn’s exasperated expression. He could almost hear the sellsword’s voice in his head. 

_For fuck’s sake, you’re still fighting like a good little boy. They don’t give a shit about your honour, so stop fighting like a knight and fight like you mean it._

The northerner wasn’t going to give him a chance to recover. He came at Jaime again, raining down blow after blow. Jaime managed to parry each of them, not letting the man force him to take another step back, but he wasn’t finding it easy. 

One blow caught his sword before he could raise it very high. The man put his weight behind it, keeping Jaime’s sword too close to his own left leg, his wrist bent at an awkward angle. Jaime wasn’t sure how he could get out of that position, and he saw the gleam of victory in his opponent’s eyes. 

_To hell with it,_ Jaime thought. He shifted his weight slightly on to his back leg, just enough to create a bit of space between them, before quickly swinging his right hand round to hit the man in the jaw. 

It wasn’t hard enough to do any damage, but it was enough of a surprise that the northerner staggered back a couple of steps. Jaime had the tip of his sword at the man’s throat before he could react. 

“Yield.” 

The man looked angry, but his own sword was held loosely at his side and he knew he had no chance. 

“I yield,” he growled, throwing his sword to the ground. 

Jaime took a step back, lowering his own weapon. He nodded to his opponent before looking around at the watching crowd. He caught Bronn’s satisfied smirk. Brienne was making her way over to the Starks. He saw her exchange a few words with them before heading back inside. As she went she looked over at him and smiled slightly. She looked relieved, and Jaime wondered if she’d been worried about him. 

Now that the excitement was over, the crowd was starting to disperse as people got back to their work. Jon walked over to him.

“Well, Lannister, you’ve proven that you can handle yourself.”

Jaime just nodded, having to bite his tongue again to keep himself from saying something he shouldn’t. He didn’t like being treated as if he were a mere squire, seeking praise during a training session. But he knew that his relationship with the Starks would never be easy, and he would have to work hard to gain any kind of respect from them, if he ever could. 

“I’ve heard the Lannister army is well-trained.” Jon continued. 

“I would like to think so,” Jaime replied. “My father made certain of that.” 

“I’m sure he did. We’ll certainly have a use for all of you.”

“That is why we’re here, my lord.”

Jon nodded in response, before turning and walking back to Sansa and Arya. 

Deciding he was done, Jaime made his way back inside. He suspected the blow he’d taken to his leg would leave a bruise, but apart from that he wasn’t injured. He thought he’d probably done more damage to his opponent’s pride than anything else, but he got a small buzz of satisfaction from it all the same. 

Later, once he had removed his armour and seen to his leg, Jaime went looking for Brienne. Somehow, being this close to her but not being able to talk to her was worse than being separated by hundreds of miles. 

He found her in the training yard, sparring with Arya. The younger Stark girl moved in ways Jaime had never seen before, ducking nimbly under Brienne’s attacks. When they’d finished, they stood talking for a while. Jaime decided to leave, not wanting to intrude. 

He was glad that Brienne seemed happy with the Starks, yet at the same time it troubled him. He would never want to jeopardise the relationship she had with them. She was their sworn sword, after all. Knights often gave up a great deal to serve their chosen lords, as Jaime knew only too well. If that was the life Brienne wanted, who was he to disrupt it?

He needed to talk to her. He needed to know if she felt anything for him beyond the mutual respect of two knights. Jaime decided to wait until later in the day, when they would have more time. 

* * *

Brienne spent the afternoon helping to train some of the younger fighters. Evening came on quickly in the north, and she was still putting away the weapons they’d been using as the light started to fade. 

She had noticed Jaime watching at one point. She’d only seen the end of his fight against the man from Bear Island, and she’d been glad that he’d managed to win, even if it had been by somewhat unconventional means. 

Brienne hadn’t seen Jaime fight since before he’d lost his hand. She’d heard from Podrick that he’d been training with the sellsword, Bronn, and she was relieved that it had clearly paid off. 

Once everything was put away Brienne headed inside, thinking how strange it was that Jaime’s last fight with his right hand had been against her. 

She was almost at the door when a movement caught her eye. Jaime was making his way towards the wooden steps that led down from the covered walkway. 

“Ser Jaime? What are you doing?”

“I was waiting for you,” he replied. 

“Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you. If you have time.”

Brienne nodded and climbed up the steps to meet him.

“I saw you sparring with Arya Stark earlier. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

“Neither have I,” Brienne replied. “She told me that she spent some time in Braavos. She must have learnt it there.”

“Braavos. Yes, that would make sense.” Jaime said thoughtfully. 

“Why do you want to talk about Arya?” Brienne asked, confused. Jaime seemed to have more on his mind than just Arya’s unusual fighting style. 

“I don’t,” he admitted. “I wanted to thank you. I know you were trying to defend me yesterday, even though I didn’t deserve it. What I did was indefensible.”

“I know you had your reasons.” Brienne told him. 

She wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk to Jaime about his relationship with his sister, but this was the first time they’d had a chance to talk properly since his arrival, and she did want to talk to him. She couldn’t just walk away. 

“I suppose I thought I did, at the time.” Jaime said. 

“You wanted to protect your family. That’s not a bad reason.”

“My family.” Jaime repeated. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. 

“What I said yesterday, about Cersei being pregnant...”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, ser Jaime.” Brienne interrupted. Even in the midst of everything else that had been said, hearing that had felt like a knife twisting in her heart. It was no wonder that he hadn’t wanted to look at her in the Dragon Pit. 

“Don’t I?” asked Jaime quietly. 

“You love her.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Jaime met her eyes, silent for a moment. 

“No. Not any more. Not for some time now. Too much had changed. I’d changed. Maybe some part of me still wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were.”

He shook his head with a bitter smile. 

“Maybe I am as big a fool as people keep on telling me.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool. We don’t get to choose who we love.”

Taken by surprise, all Jaime could do was stare at her. 

Brienne swallowed nervously. 

“I am glad you’re here. And I’m glad that you weren’t injured in your fight this morning.”

Jaime managed a small smile, genuine this time. 

“Thank you.”

She turned to go. Jaime reached out and caught her arm just above the elbow. 

“Brienne. Please.”

She paused, but didn’t turn back to him. 

“It’s getting late. We should go inside.”

Jaime moved closer to her, trying to get her to look at him, trying desperately to find the right words. 

“I’ve missed you,” he began. “From the day you left to look for Sansa. I thought about you. I tried not to, but I did. I wondered where you were, if you were safe. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And then suddenly you were there at Riverrun, only to leave again. And I certainly didn’t expect to see you at the Dragon Pit, and I treated you so badly. And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Years of feelings he’d tried to ignore suddenly came to the surface and Jaime found himself unable to stop talking. But here, at the frozen end of the world, when death was maybe days away, what did it matter?

“You were all I thought about on the journey up here. I was so afraid that I’d arrive too late, that I’d get here to find you dead. All I wanted was to see you again, so that I could apologise, so that I could tell you...”

He paused, just for a moment. 

“You’re the only thing that makes sense to me anymore. The one good thing in all of this.”

Brienne held herself quite still, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. She was suddenly very aware of how close Jaime was standing to her, of his hand on her arm. She could feel her face start to flush, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She prayed that they wouldn’t start to fall. 

Jaime moved even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you, Brienne. And I should have told you that a long time ago.”

Brienne just stared at him, unable to speak. 

Jaime’s fingers moved up her arm and gently caressed her cheek. 

“Maybe we don’t get to chose who we love, but we do get to choose what we do about it.”

He leant forward and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers for a moment. 

“Jaime,” she began. “Don’t mock me. I can’t take that. Not from you.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t. Brienne, you’re honest and brave and true and a far better knight than I could ever be. I will never be worthy of you, I know that, but I would gladly spend the rest of my life trying to be.”

She realised then that he was as uncertain as she was, stepping carefully into what was unknown territory for both of them. Looking into his eyes, she saw the same look she’d seen before, soft and sincere. She hesitantly lifted a hand to touch his face, the faint scar on his cheek, the prickly hair of his beard. 

“I love you too,” she said. 

At those simple words Jaime felt his heart swell in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He closed the distance between them and kissed her again. It was gentle at first, then growing more passionate and the rest of the world seemed to melt away as they gave into years of longing. 

They stood catching their breath, foreheads pressed against each other.

“I should have done that a long time ago too.” Jaime said. 

Brienne gave him a shy smile, and he realised how rarely he’d seen her smile before, and how much he liked seeing it now. 

“When I saw you at Riverrun,” he continued. “I wanted to kiss you so much that day.”

“You did?”

Jaime nodded. 

“Why didn’t you?” she asked quietly. 

Jaime sighed. 

“You had to go back to Winterfell. I had to go back to Kings Landing. It would only have made it harder to say goodbye to you again. And besides, I wasn’t entirely sure that you’d have let me.”

“I think I would have let you.” Brienne told him. After a moment she continued, 

“You really felt that way? Even then?”

“Even before that, I think. That day you left Kings Landing. As I watched you ride away, I knew I loved you. I wished I could go with you. I wish I’d told you how I felt.”

He shook his head regretfully. 

“I thought I was the only one who felt that way. I never really believed that you could feel the same.” Brienne confessed. 

Jaime smiled sadly. 

“We could have had so much more time together. I’m sorry.”

“Your family needed you. And I had my own duties.”

“I know,” Jaime told her. “But I’m here now.”

She gave him another smile, and Jaime held her close as his lips found hers again.

* * *

Later that night, as Brienne lay alone in her room, she went over everything that had happened, everything that Jaime had said. 

_He loves me._

She kept repeating the words to herself, over and over again, as if to reassure herself that they were real. There had been times when she’d dreamed of hearing Jaime say those words, never letting herself believe that it could be true. 

_He loves me._

She had wondered what it would be like to kiss him. It had been far better than she’d ever imagined, sweeter than she’d thought possible. 

_He loves me._

_And I love him._

After so long, it had been terrifying to say the words out loud. But she had said them. And Jaime hadn’t laughed at her or turned away in disgust. 

_He loves me._

That thought warmed her more than the pile of furs and blankets she was lying under, and Brienne smiled to herself, thinking of Jaime’s lips on hers. 

* * *

The next day Jaime found that he had very little time to talk to Brienne. The Lannister army had settled into their new accommodation, and the additional cold weather gear he had asked for had been provided. 

However things were still tense between the different armies. Waiting for a battle that they all knew was coming made people short-tempered, and Jaime had to stop more than one of his men from getting into a fight with some of the wildlings. 

But despite that, Jaime was happier than he had been in a long time. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart, and even the glares and curses of the northerners couldn’t dampen his mood. 

He finally saw Brienne late in the morning as she was crossing the courtyard with Sansa. Jaime nodded politely to both of them as they walked past him. 

“Lady Sansa. Lady Brienne.” 

Sansa gave him the barest nod of acknowledgement and continued walking. Jaime passed close to Brienne, letting his fingers trail briefly on her arm. He was sure he could see her pale cheeks turn pink as she walked away, and he had to fight to hide his smile. 

He saw her again later, when she was training with Podrick in the courtyard. He loved to watch her fight, and would have stayed to watch if he hadn’t needed to see to his own duties. By the time he had finished, it was starting to get dark again. 

It was quite late by the time Brienne had a chance to eat that evening. The hall was still full as members of the different houses tried to find a place to sit. She found a seat not too far from the fire and started on her stew. Podrick had gone to sit with Tyrion and Bronn, but Brienne didn’t mind being left alone for a while. 

She hadn’t been there long when she saw Jaime. He ignored the way people seemed to stop talking to stare at him when he entered. He looked around the hall and Brienne wondered if he was looking for her, but Tyrion caught his attention first and Jaime went to join his brother. 

They weren’t sitting that far away, and Jaime noticed her as he sat down. He gave her a smile before he had to listen to what Tyrion was saying to him. 

As she finished her dinner, Brienne found she kept glancing over at their table. Sometimes Jaime would catch her eye and smile again. There was a moment when she was sure that his sellsword friend had noticed, as he looked between them and raised an eyebrow. 

Jaime seemed more relaxed than he had done since he arrived at Winterfell, laughing at something his brother had said. Brienne couldn’t help thinking how handsome he was, and smiled to herself again. 

She thought about the evening before; the feeling of his kiss, the warmth of his fingers on her skin. She remembered all the times she’d let her mind wander to him, daring to imagine what it would be like to touch him, and to let him touch her. 

She glanced at Jaime again, only to find he was watching her with a smile, as if he could tell what she’d been thinking. She could feel herself start to flush. Suddenly the hall felt too warm and too stuffy. She stood up, not wanting to risk looking at him again, and walked quickly to the door.

Once outside Brienne slowed down, stopping to lean on one of the wooden posts in the courtyard. She breathed in the cold night air, letting it cool her hot cheeks. 

After a moment she started walking slowly again, not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her. 

There weren’t many people outside, just those on watch for the evening. Brienne turned when she heard footsteps crunching on the frozen ground behind her. 

“Brienne?”

It was Jaime, approaching her with a look of concern. She stopped and waited for him to catch up. 

“Are you alright? You left in such a hurry.”

“I’m fine, thank you. I just needed some air.” 

“Where were you going?”

“I’m not really sure.” She was starting to feel foolish. 

“I’ll come with you.” Jaime said with a smile. 

Brienne nodded, and continued across the courtyard. Jaime fell into step beside her. Their arms bumped occasionally as they made their way across the uneven ground and Brienne was sure that she could feel the warmth of his body, even though their layers of clothes. 

The guards didn’t seem to pay any attention to them as they passed, and without really thinking about where they were going they found themselves at the edge of the Godswood. The snow had started to fall again, and there was no sound apart from the faint whisper of the wind in the trees. 

Jaime watched as Brienne looked around the small clearing they were standing in. The pale light reflecting off the snow seemed to make her hair glow, her blue eyes standing out against her fair skin. She almost looked beautiful. 

Jaime took hold of her hand and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he told her with a grin. 

“I was hoping you would.” 

She gave him another of those gentle smiles that he was starting to adore. Brienne rested her hands on his shoulders, fingers idly toying with the fur of his cloak. 

Jaime gazed at her for a moment, happy just to be there with her. He watched the flakes of snow melting in her hair. One landed on her nose and he kissed it away. That made her smile even more. 

Then he kissed her again, savouring warmth and closeness of her. 

As they stood together enjoying the peace there was a noise behind Jaime, the sound of something shifting in the snow. Brienne tensed, looking over Jaime’s shoulder. He turned to see what he was looking at, but there was no sign of movement. 

“It was probably just some snow falling off a branch, or an animal,” he assured her. 

“Yes, probably.”

She was searching the surrounding trees. 

“Or it might have been one of the guards,” she continued, “but I don’t see anyone.”

She was still frowning slightly. 

“We’re not doing anything wrong, Brienne.” Jaime told her, trying hard not to think of all the times he and Cersei had told themselves the same thing. But this was different. Everything with Brienne was different. 

“I know,” she reassured him quickly. 

“But you don’t think that the Starks would approve.”

Brienne started to object, but didn’t know what to say. In truth, she wasn’t sure what anyone would think of the two of them. 

“That’s understandable,” Jaime continued. “They hate me. Not that I blame them.” 

“They don’t know you.” Brienne told him. “I tried to tell Lady Sansa that you’d changed, that you’re not the same man you used to be. I told her how you saved me. I think she understood.”

“Thank you. I’d never expect them to trust me, but thank you for trying.”

“You came all this way to help them fight and they know that. You’re a good man, Jaime.”

Seeing he was about to protest, she continued,

“You are. You have a good heart.”

For the second time in as many days Jaime found himself lost for words. Brienne’s belief that he was worthy of her trust simply over-awed him. 

“It’s yours,” he told her. “I’m yours.”

Brienne reached up and cupped his face tenderly in her hands. Jaime put his left hand over her right, kissing her palm. 

“And I’m yours,” she told him. 

They remained like that for a time, holding each other close. A gust of wind blew past them, causing the snow flakes to dance sideways, and Jaime couldn’t quite repress a shiver. 

“We should go back inside.” Brienne said quietly, as if unwilling to break the spell between them. 

Jaime nodded reluctantly. With a last kiss on her lips, he forced himself to let go of her, offering her his arm instead. 

“My lady,” he said. 

Brienne smiled, amused at his formality, but put her arm through his and let him escort her back to the castle. 

The people that were still awake were all too busy to pay any attention to them as they walked back inside. Brienne led the way back to her room and stopped outside the door. 

She turned to face him. 

“Good night, ser Jaime.”

“Good night, my lady.”

Jaime couldn’t resist pulling her close for another kiss. Brienne’s lips were soft and sweet, and Jaime felt he would never grow tired of kissing them. But eventually he had to let her go, letting her move to open the door. 

“Good night Brienne,” he said. 

“Good night Jaime,” she replied with another gentle smile. 

After Brienne went into her room, Jaime remained standing in the corridor. He was tempted to knock on her door so that he could give her one more kiss, but he knew that if he did that he’d never want to leave. 

He heard voices echoing from around the corner, and suddenly realised that he’d look very foolish to anyone who found him standing there, staring at her door. Reluctantly, he walked away and went back to his own room.


	3. Chapter 3

Brienne was getting ready for another training session with some of the younger northerners when Jon sent word that everyone was to come to the great hall. 

The remains of the midday meal had barely been cleared away as people began to gather. Brienne made her way to where Sansa and Arya were sitting and stood beside them. Things seemed to be even more tense than usual as they waited for everyone to arrive. 

Jaime entered the hall a few minutes later. Brienne saw him exchange a questioning look with his brother and Tyrion motioned for him to wait. Frowning, Jaime pushed past people to come and stand next to her. No-one paid much attention to him as Jon started speaking. 

A scout had come from the north. The army of the dead was moving faster than they’d anticipated and could be at Winterfell within a week. 

Brienne felt Jaime slide his hand into hers, squeezing her fingers. She squeezed back, not sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself. 

Jon and the other northerners started to discuss strategies. Brienne didn’t know much about battle tactics, but Jon was adamant that Winterfell had to be defended at all costs. No-one disagreed with that, not even Jaime, when Jon pointed out where he and the Lannister army would be positioned. Jaime merely nodded, studying the map that was laid on the table. 

Brienne was so pre-occupied with where Jaime would be that she almost missed her own name being mentioned. 

“Brienne is one of our best fighters.” Sansa told Jon. 

“But would you rather she stayed with you?”

Sansa hesitated. 

“I’ll go wherever I’ll be the most use, my lord.” Brienne spoke the words aloud almost before she knew she was going to say them. 

Jon nodded. 

“You’ll go with the Stark army. And Podrick too.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Jaime desperately wanted to tell her to stay with Sansa, to stay inside the castle where she’d be safer. But he knew that was ridiculous. None of them were safe anywhere. As he looked at her, he saw the same quietly determined look he’d seen the day they’d parted at Harrenhall. He knew it would make no difference if he did say it. If Brienne was afraid, she wasn’t going to show it. Jaime squeezed her hand again, feeling his heart swell with love and pride. 

The discussions went on for a long time after that, until there was nothing left for anyone to say. Everyone knew their place and what would be expected of them when the time came. 

Jon dismissed them all, and Jaime went to see to his men. He was reluctant to let go of Brienne’s hand, trying to tell her with a look that he’d see her again soon. She have him a small nod and a smile, and he was sure she understood. 

* * *

That evening Podrick tried to help her prepare, before Brienne insisted that she could manage by herself, and told him to go and see to his own things. 

Once he’d gone, she sat on the edge of the bed to clean Oathkeeper. The sword hardly needed it, but Brienne found it calmed her. She was admiring the way the firelight glinted on the Valyrian steel blade and the golden lion hilt when there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Jaime standing outside.

“I came to see if there was anything you needed,” he told her. 

“No, thank you. I think I have everything prepared. I was just cleaning Oathkeeper.”

She gestured to the sword where it was still lying on the bed. Jaime smiled slightly, and Brienne moved aside to let him into the room. He walked over to the sword and ran his fingers over the hilt before picking it up. 

“It still looks as good as new. I knew you’d take care of it.”

She returned his smile and he handed the sword back to her, watching as she slipped it back into its sheath and hung it on the back of a chair. 

As she turned back to him, he moved forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. 

Brienne hugged him back, holding him close. So much had changed between them in such a short time, but holding him like that already felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

After a moment, Jaime whispered in her ear. 

“I love you, Brienne. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know, Jaime. I love you too.”

He loosened his hold on her slightly so he could look at her face. 

“I just wanted to tell you that.”

He looked so earnest that she couldn’t help but smile. 

Jaime kissed her cheek, then her lips. He held her tight against him, his mouth exploring hers, as if he wanted to touch every part of her at the same time. He could feel himself starting to get hard, and he wondered if Brienne would notice through their clothing. 

Brienne returned his kiss with equal passion, losing herself in the moment. As she pressed against him, she felt the stiff outline of his cock against her leg. Surprised, she broke apart from his kiss, but didn’t try to move away. 

Jaime swallowed uncertainly. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked her. 

Brienne hesitated a moment. 

“No,” she replied. “Do you want to leave?”

Jaime shook his head. 

“I want to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me.”

“I think I’d like that.”

Jaime was watching her closely. 

“Are you sure?” he asked her gently. 

Brienne nodded, and he leant forward to kiss her again when he felt her hesitate. 

“Jaime, I don’t know how... I mean, I’ve never...”

“I know,” he told her reassuringly. 

Their kiss was soon as fierce as it had been before, filled with years of longing and desire. Jaime removed Brienne’s cloak, letting it fall to the floor, followed quickly by his own. Then he reached for the laces of her doublet and started loosening them. Normally, something so fiddly would have frustrated him, but he found he enjoyed undressing her slowly. 

She shrugged it off, and started undoing the fastenings of his coat. She could feel her fingers trembling, unsure if it was nerves or excitement. But Jaime’s kiss pushed away any thought of nervousness. 

As Jaime pulled her close again, he became aware of his golden hand digging into Brienne’s waist. He moved his arm away from her, frowning at the ridiculous thing. He pulled it off and let it fall to the floor with a dull thud. He looked back up at her, feeling unsure for the first time since he’d entered her room. 

As Brienne met his eyes, she ran her fingers down his right arm until she got to his wrist, and gently put it back on her waist. 

Before long they were both standing in just their undershirts and breeches. Jaime’s fingers found their way to the laces at Brienne’s waist, tugging them undone before tugging them down, along with her small clothes. As Brienne stepped out of them, Jaime couldn’t resist sliding his hand down to squeeze her backside, pushing her against him. 

Brienne’s breath quickened at the feeling of his hand on her bare skin. She wanted to feel more of it. She grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head, messing his hair as she did so. She stroked her fingers over his shoulders and chest, enjoying the feeling of his firm muscles. 

Jaime waited a moment, letting her explore his body, before taking hold of her shirt and slipping it off her. His eyes took in every part of her, and suddenly a wave of self-consciousness crashed into her. She’d been naked in front of him once before, but this was different. Every hurtful word and cruel joke she’d ever endured came back to her at once. 

Jaime could tell something was wrong as she seemed to withdraw into herself. 

“What is it?” he asked, concerned. 

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” Brienne asked. “That you want me? I’m not... I’m not beautiful.”

“You are to me.”

“Don’t, Jaime. Please don’t. I know I’m not. I’m ugly, and too tall, and I’m covered in scars.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true. Ladies are supposed to be beautiful.”

Jaime lifted her chin to get her to look at him. 

“Ladies are also supposed to stay at home wearing pretty dresses, not try to fight off bears with a wooden sword.”

He brushed his fingers gently over the jagged scars on her collarbone. 

“You’re a warrior, Brienne. Scars just show that you survived.”

Jaime paused a moment, seeing conflicting emotions crossing her face. He traced his thumb over her lips, his fingers gentle on his face. 

“I love you. I love everything that you are. I love your honour, your bravery, your compassion, your goodness. Those are the things that make you beautiful.”

Brienne stared at him for a long moment, seeing nothing but honesty and love in his eyes. Jaime didn’t move, letting her decide what happened next. She moved closer to him, until they were a breath apart, before pressing her lips against his. 

As their passion built again, Jaime undid the laces of his own breeches, kicking them out of the way. Now as naked as she was, he took her hand and led her to the bed. 

Brienne lay on her back, with Jaime lying next to her, leaning on his right elbow. She could feel her heart beating fast in her chest, nerves and excitement making her stomach flutter. She wondered if Jaime felt the same, as he kissed her mouth, then her jawline, then her neck, nipping gently at her skin before kissing the same place, making her nerves tingle. His hand cupped one of he breasts, tenderly squeezing her nipple as he kissed the other. 

After a moment his hand continued downwards, over her waist and the curve of her hip, as his lips moved back up to her neck, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin. 

Jaime’s fingers traced patterns down her leg, almost to her knee, before slowly, tantalisingly making their way back up the inside of her thigh. Brienne parted her legs slightly as his hand got higher. His fingers brushed briefly through the hair that covered her mound before he slipped them into her werness. 

Brienne closed her eyes as he explored her, letting out a gasp as he found her clit. He started rubbing her, gentle, deft movements, back and forth, then circles, gradually getting quicker until she was moaning softly, squirming under his touch. 

Jaime moved his fingers away from her clit, moving slowly between her folds before sliding one finger inside her. Brienne gasped again at the new sensation, opening her legs further to let him in. She was so wet he slid in easily. Jaime watched her face, enjoying her reactions to his caresses. 

He added another finger, curling them slightly as he moved them in and out, trying to touch her in just the right spot. As he started going faster, he put his thumb back on her clit, rubbing it in time with each stroke of his fingers. 

Brienne could feel the heat starting to pool low down inside her, the sensation growing the each movement of Jaime’s hand. She gripped his arm, wanting to keep him there, to keep him touching her. The heat built until it was almost too much for her to bear. As she came, her body seemed to move on its own, hips thrusting against his hand, her own hands clutching at his arm and the blankets beneath her, her breath coming in pants. 

Jaime’s fingers slowed, teasing out every last bit of pleasure until she lay still. Brienne opened her eyes to find him watching her. 

“Did you like that?” he asked with a smile. 

Brienne managed to nod, still breathing hard. She brought her legs together and rolled to face him. Jaime trailed his fingers up and down her thigh and over her hip. She shifted closer to kiss him, and as she did so she felt his hard length rub against her. 

Jaime closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Feeling Brienne’s hand on his chest, he opened his eyes to look at her, and found she was watching him expectantly. 

He kissed her again, savouring the taste of her. Brienne rolled on to her back again, and he moved with her, not breaking their lips away from each other even for a moment. Jaime nudged one of his knees between hers, coaxing her legs apart. Soon he was lying on top of her, his hips between her thighs. 

The tip of his cock brushed against her entrance, warm and wet. Jaime ached for her, but still he hesitated. 

“Brienne,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

Brienne gazed into his eyes, her hands on his face. 

“I trust you,” she told him. 

Jaime bent his head to kiss her, slowly pushing inside as he did so. Brienne moaned as he filled her. He began moving slowly, letting her get used to him. After a few moments she shifted her legs, bringing them higher, letting him get even deeper. 

Each movement felt exquisite to her, and as Jaime started moving faster Brienne gave herself to him completely. Nothing else mattered but the two of them. 

Looking into her eyes, Jaime knew that she was truly his, just as he was hers. All the pain of the past and the fear of the future seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other. 

As their rhythm became more frantic, Brienne could feel the same hot sensation starting to build again, more intensely than before. 

“Jaime! Oh, gods, Jaime!” 

She moaned his name over and over again as he thrust inside her. Jaime thought it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Brienne dug her fingers into his shoulders and tangled them in his hair, wanting to keep him close, thinking of nothing, feeling nothing but him as her orgasm overwhelmed her. 

Jaime came moments later, spilling inside her as the last waves of her orgasm started to ebb away. He became still, eyes closed, breathing hard. Brienne could feel him trembling slightly as she held him. She brushed his damp hair away from his face and he opened his eyes to look at her. 

“I love you,” was all he could think to say. 

“I love you too,” she replied. 

He kissed her again. All the fierceness from before had gone, leaving only gentleness behind. 

They remained like that for a time, enjoying the closeness of their bodies, before Jaime carefully rolled off her, moving to lie beside her again. As Brienne turned to lie facing him, he reached for the blankets and pulled them up to cover them so they wouldn’t get cold. 

After a moment, Jaime asked

“Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

The concern on his face was touching. 

“No, not at all,” she assured him. 

Brienne stroked his face, her fingers toying with his beard. He’d had a beard when they’d first known each other. Their journey through the Riverlands seemed like so long ago. 

She smiled to herself as she thought of something he’d said to her then. 

“What is it?” Jaime asked. 

“I was thinking about something you said to me once. About how you could fling me down and tear off all my clothes.”

Jaime could feel himself flush with embarrassment. 

“I said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have done. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Brienne told him. “Not anymore.”

“You said you weren’t interested.”

She knew he was teasing her. 

“I wasn’t. But that was before I got to know the man you really are.”

She caressed his face again, thinking about everything they’d been through together. 

“You never did tell me why you saved me that night, when those men were going to rape me.”

“I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

“But why did you care? You didn’t even like me. Not then.”

Jaime’s brow furrowed slightly. 

“Maybe not, but you didn’t deserve that. And it was my fault that we got captured in the first place. If I hadn’t tried to fight you, they might never have caught us.”

“If you hadn’t interfered, Locke might have left you alone. You might still have your hand.”

“But I wouldn’t have you.” Jaime told her, smiling as he entwined his fingers with hers. 

Brienne smiled back, squeezing his hand, and marvelling again at everything that had brought them to this point. Suddenly, the reality of where they were and what they were facing hit her and fear gripped her heart. The thought of losing Jaime just when they’d finally found each other made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Jaime could see that something was wrong. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Are you afraid?” she asked him quietly. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “Are you?”

Brienne nodded. 

“You’re going to live through this,” he told her. “You’re brave, and you’re strong. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen. And you have a Valyrian steel sword.”

“I’ve never been afraid to die, Jaime,” was all she could say, not sure how to explain that it wasn’t her own life she feared for. She wondered if he could understand how she felt, if he might feel the same way. 

Jaime watched her for a moment, guessing what might be on her mind. 

“Maybe I’m not as good with my left hand as I was with my right, but I have been practicing, you know. And I have a Valyrian steel sword too. I’m not completely useless.”

He managed to slight smile. 

“I know you’re not.” Brienne told him quickly. 

“We’re going to live, Brienne. Both of us.”

He said it with such determination that she wanted to believe him. 

“I’m not going to die in the snow, fighting under a Stark banner. Or a Targaryen one, for that matter. That would never do for the Kingslayer. We’re going to live. We’re going to go on and have long and happy lives.”

He desperately wanted to give her some reassurance, some hope that things could work out for them. 

“Marry me,” he said suddenly. 

“What?” Brienne replied, taken by surprise. 

“Marry me. Be my wife. Please?”

Brienne could only stare at him. 

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

Despite her fears, Brienne could feel herself starting to smile. 

“Yes, Jaime. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Jaime smiled, a real one this time, before pulling her close and kissing her. 

“Where are we going to find a septon?” Brienne asked. 

“We’ll think of something. There must be someone here who can perform a wedding. I’ll ask Tyrion, he knows everyone. We’ll have to invite him, of course. And Podrick. And Bronn, I suppose. He’d never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“I wish I could invite my father,” Brienne said a little wistfully. 

“I’d like to meet him. I’d like to go to Tarth one day.”

“You would?”

Jaime nodded. 

“I sailed past it once, on the way down to Dorne. It looked very peaceful. And the sea was very blue.”

He smiled again at the memory. 

“We’ll go to Tarth.” Brienne agreed. 

“You can show me where the sapphire mines are.” Jaime said. That made her smile. 

“We can spend all our days riding through the hills, exploring, having adventures. And spend all our nights making love. And when spring comes again we can walk on the beach and paddle in the sea.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Brienne told him. 

She snuggled closer to him, enjoying the feeling of him next to her, warm under the blankets. 

“I love you, Jaime,” she said. 

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her softly. 

Eventually they fell asleep in each other’s arms, dreaming of spring.


End file.
